The Moonlight by Nicholas Guild Read Free Book Online Page A

just inherited it from some uncle,” he said quickly.  “I never knew anything about him, so it was like being struck by lightning.  A week ago I lived in California, and now I live here.”
    “I hear California’s nice.  I bet you want to go back.”
    She smiled, but there was something almost pleading in her eyes, as if it really mattered to her.
    “Not really.”
    Her beer came, so there was a little pause as she tasted it and adjusted the napkin so that the glass was placed precisely in its center.
    “So—you’re living there?” she asked, as if she just wanted to get it straight for her records.
    “For the time being, I guess.  Until they sell it or. . .  God knows.”
    And then she laughed, just for a second and kind of deep in her throat, and looked at him from underneath her eyebrows in that way some women have.  And he just knew. . .
    “Well,” she said, and laughed again, “my place is closer.”
    . . . . .
    And it was.  Beth—in their own good time they had gotten around to first names—lived in two rooms and a kitchenette, right over the hardware store.  They had another couple of beers and went there.
    “My roommate is on the night shift at Grand Union.  She gets back at six a.m.”
    Beth smiled a little uncertainly.  It was her way to telling him she couldn’t ask him to stay the night.  That was all right.  Phil still hadn’t recovered from his astonishment over being there at all.
    “You want a cup of coffee?”
    When he tried to answer, he found his mouth was dry.
    He didn’t really know what to do.  His experience was limited—at the age of twenty he had lost his virginity in a car parked by the beach in Santa Monica, and Peggy had held out until their honeymoon in Las Vegas.  He wasn’t clear about how to proceed when the lady invites him up for the implied purpose of a little heavy breathing.  He wasn’t sure of the etiquette.  Whores didn’t count.
    But in the end it was all perfectly straightforward.  While they were waiting for the coffee to brew, she went into what was presumably the bedroom and changed into a rayon kimono.  When she brought out the cups, she leaned over where he was sitting on the sofa and kissed him.  After a little preliminary fumbling, during which he discovered that she had not a blessed thing on under the kimono, they moved on to the bedroom.
    And, Jesus, she was lush, with nice-sized breasts with nipples as hard as diamonds.  The rest of her was just soft enough to be luxurious.  And when she came it was in long shudders, like she was starved for it.  She made him feel like King Kong.
    They made love for three straight hours.  Nothing, nothing in his whole life, had ever been anything like it.  Not even close.
    “Will I see you again?” she asked as he was putting his clothes back on.  There was a little note of uncertainty in her voice, as if it mattered to her, and he liked that too.
    “I could come in to the restaurant about ten o’clock.  Then, after you get off . . .”
    “I’m not working tomorrow night.  Why don’t you come straight here?”
    He was sitting on the edge of the bed, putting his socks on, and she put her arms around him from behind and kissed him on the neck.  They were lovers.  It was a settled thing between them.
    “If I can rent a car by tomorrow, maybe we could go out to dinner.”
    She kissed him again, letting her lower lip drag across his earlobe.
    “I hate restaurants,” she murmured—he could feel the heat of her breath on his neck.  “Just show up here, and I’ll feed you.”
    “Sounds good.  I’ll bring the wine.”
    When he went down the stairs it was four o’clock in the morning, so he went to the Grand Union to finish the shopping. The sky was still black while he walked home, lugging his plastic grocery bags, and this time he didn’t stop for a cigarette. In the purely intellectual way that, for instance, he knew his social security number, he knew that he was tired, yet at